


Zoinks

by ufohnoparty (why_didnt_i_get_any_soup)



Series: Bangs, Exchanges, Prompts, and Challenges [21]
Category: Scooby Doo - All Media Types, Supernatural
Genre: Demonic Possession, Demons, Food, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Ohio, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:35:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27257278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/why_didnt_i_get_any_soup/pseuds/ufohnoparty
Summary: Dean and Cas are slumming it in Cinncinati when they catch wind of ghost sitings and a missing girl in nearby Coolsville.Written for the SPN Crazy Crossover.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Daphne Blake/Velma Dinkley/Fred Jones/Norville "Shaggy" Rogers
Series: Bangs, Exchanges, Prompts, and Challenges [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016505
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	Zoinks

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the SPN Crazy Crossover Writing Challenge by [cocklesdestielfiction](https://cocklesdestielfiction.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. Beta'd by [bre95611](https://bre95611.tumblr.com/) on tumblr and here with the same user name. I am very passionate about poly gang!!! Header image: https://ufohnoparty.tumblr.com/post/633277050154778624/written-for-the-spn-crazy-crossover-writing

They were slumming it in Cincinnati, having finished a case and not really feeling like leaving just yet, when they saw a report of teens spying a ghost in an old, abandoned mine a few towns over. The story, of course, was buried in the family section and was presented as colorful folklore. The sightings had been rumored for years, though apparently there had been a recent spike. The only really concerning thing was that a 10 year old girl had gone missing around the mine, so the town was rightly a bit worried. 

“The name of this town is Coolsville,” Dean remarked on a smirk.

“Does that mean you don’t want to check it out?” Cas asked, shoveling bacon into his pie hole.

“Let me see how far it is,” Dean said, whipping out his phone and plugging the name into the map app. “Just a little over an hour drive northeast of here. That’s close enough for it to be worth checking out.”

Cas shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”

They checked out of their current motel, packed up the Impala, and were on their way in no time flat. It was still early when they arrived, so they’d have time to do some reconnaissance before it got dark and the creepy crawlies came out.

Coolsville was quaint, quintessential Smalltown, USA—there was a main drag with some cute looking antique shops, some corner stores, a small post office, the one bank, and city hall. They passed a handful of signs and billboards coming in that spoke of solidarity with little Molly’s family and “praying” for her safe return. They were definitely in the right place.

Of course, there was a smattering of restaurants here and there, most of which of course appealed to Dean. But one really stood out as the local hang out for kids, just based on the vehicles out front. One such vehicle was a bit of a creeper van; it clearly used to be white, but now had a custom paint job of blue and green with orange flowers and font that proclaimed it “The Mystery Machine.”

“Ten bucks says that thing reeks of weed and booze,” Dean laughed to himself.

“Why?” Cas asked, ever the adorable, oblivious idiot.

“Just look at it. It’s clear that some hippie owns it. And what do hippies do? Smoke weed.”

“A lot of people smoke weed, Dean. It’s legal medically in several states and recreationally in several others.”

Dean sighed. “I know that. I’m just trying to be...you know what, never mind. But clearly the kids hang out here, so let’s go inside and see if we can weasel some information out of them.”

The Malt Shop served traditional Americana food—burgers, fries, milkshakes, and some weirder fare like the “liverwurst sandwich à la mode” that sounded truly horrific. Despite having just eaten, they’d been in the car for an hour and just the smell of that greasy food made his stomach rumble. He never could say no to a good, old-fashioned bacon cheeseburger. 

“You’re seriously hungry, again?” Cas chastised, when Dean sat down at a booth with a menu.

“Hey, the heart wants what the heart wants!”

“Dean, in a few years, your heart is going to let you know that this is not what it wanted at all.”

“Yeah well, I’ll burn that bridge when I get to it,” Dean muttered, tugging at the stupid collar of his stupid monkey suit that he hated wearing.

He knew they were definitely too old at this point to really pull off just being young people interested in the thrill of a possibly haunted mine. They had to come at it from the FBI angle. Thankfully, the missing child gave them a legitimate reason to be looking into the case. All they had to do was say that there was a possibility of the child being taken over state lines—Cincinnati and the surrounding area were so close to Indiana and Kentucky that it was incredibly plausible, not that the average joe would even know that the FBI would only get involved with an abduction case unless there was the possibility of crossing state lines, but still. CYA and all that.

Dean looked around the shop—it was quite small—and pretty quickly found the group he was sure “the Mystery Machine” belonged to. There were two girls, two boys, and...a dog? He was pretty sure that violated a  _ ton _ of health codes, but they were somewhere near Appalacia and coal country. Not like anyone in the middle of nowhere really cared too much about health codes. 

The kids looked...seventeen, eighteen or so. Dean had sort of lost his ability to tell how old anyone was, but he was pretty sure he was right on this one. As he watched them laugh and joke together, he realized two things: one) he was being incredibly creepy and two) he was maybe sort of kind of scared of teenagers. He averted his eyes, looking through the small window into the kitchen where the line cook was sweating over the grill. Little kids he could deal with easily, and adults were no problem, but teenagers were a whole other beast. He was convinced that if he or Cas approached them, they would immediately zero in on any and all of both of their insecurities and tease them mercilessly for it. Dean had faced down countless demons, vampires, and ghosts and even averted an apocalypse or three but now he was actually, legitimately scared to try to talk to some high schoolers.

“Cas,” he muttered through his teeth, watching as a waitress started coming toward them with her pen and notebook, “I’m not sure I can talk to those kids.”

Cas gave him a bewildered look. “What are you talking about?” He asked at a normal decibel.

“I’m not sure, but suddenly I’m just...terrified to talk to them. Like...if I try, they’ll rip me to shreds.”

Cas raised a bemused eyebrow. “They’re just kids. You’ve fought monsters and demons millions of times.”

Dean shook his head. “This just feels worse…”

Cas, in disbelief, laughed at Dean as the waitress pulled up at their table.

“Welcome to the Malt Shop. What can I get ya, darling?” She asked, fluttering her mascara-laden eyelashes.

Dean ordered with his eyes instead of his stomach and Cas, of course, the fucker, ordered a “liverwurst sandwich a la mode.” The woman wrote it all down and disappeared to put the order in for them.

“I can do the talking,” Cas said, picking their conversation back up where they had left it.

Dean gave him a withering look. “You really think you can handle that?”

“Sure. Why not?”

Dean sighed. “Okay.”

The group showed no signs of leaving any time soon, so they took their time eating before they finally got up to speak with them. Dean was surprised at how much Cas seemed to like the ice cream and liverwurst. It was a strawberry ice cream, too.

“Good morning, guys,” Cas started, seeming to be off to a pretty good start. “My name is Agent Culpepper and this is Agent Salt.”

What the fuck? Had Cas basically just said their names were salt and pepper? Dean mentally smacked his forehead.

“You guys FBI or something?” Said the red headed one in a purple dress. She was pretty and looked like she had a sharp wit about her.

“Yes,” Cas supplied. “We’re here to investigate the disappearance of Molly Oswald. We have reason to believe she may have been abducted and taken across state lines.”

“Oh, that’s why the FBI would be involved,” said the other girl, mousier with a bob haircut and trendy square glasses. 

She looked even smarter than the other girl. Dean had been right to be intimidated by them. But what were they doing slumming it with potheads like the kid in the green shirt sitting opposite them—likely the owner of the van parked out front. Dean hadn’t actually smelled any pot as he walked by the vehicle but he still maintained his stance that only a stoner would own a van like that.

“Yes, ma’am,” Cas said, not even skipping a beat. “We were hoping we could get some information from you about her disappearance.”

“Are we suspects?” The non-stoner looking boy asked, blonde and clean cut in a white collared shirt.

“Not in the slightest. We’re just canvassing the area,” Dean finally spoke up.

“Well, we were planning on going out there in a bit. We can take you if you want to come with us,” the clean cut boy offered without consulting the rest of his group first.

Dean saw the red haired girl frown just a little, but she didn’t disagree with the blonde boy.

“You’re sure it’s no trouble?” Dean tried to play it cool.

“It’s no problem at all. We kind of do our own detective work around here. We’ve actually solved a number of crimes in and around the Coolsville area,” the boy boasted.

“Oh. Is that your van out front that says ‘Mystery Machine’ on it?” Dean played cool.

“Well, technically they van is Shaggy’s,” the boy pointed to the kid with the dog and a green shirt who hadn’t talked yet, “but we use it for Mystery Inc. business.”

“Are you guys actually a business?” Dean asked with furrowed brows.

“Not really, but everyone calls us that,” the red haired girl chimed in. “Like Fred said, we’ve solved quite a few crimes now.”

“Is this area particularly crime-ridden?” Dean asked, more taking the piss than anything else.

“Statistically, no,” the moussey girl explained, “but we do have a high number of ‘paranormal’ experiences.” She even did the finger quotations around the word paranormal.

“What does that mean?” Dean tried to look totally innocent and uneducated on the subject, hoping they’d give him all the information he would need.

“Oh, you know. It’s always someone in a phony costume, or trick wires, or a hologram. Never really ghosts or monsters.” The mousey one continued.

“Ah,” Dean said. “So, you’re pretty sure that’s the case now, as well?”

“Precisely.”

“And what about Molly?” He said, then, looking to the whole group as if opening the floor up for questions and comments.

“She’s throwing a bit of a wrench into the theory, though it’s still not totally implausible,” the girl continued. “It’s possible that, whoever has been dressing up as a ghost, this person kidnapped her.”

“Let’s hope that whatever happened to her, we can find her soon and that she is unharmed.”

It had been more than 48 hours since she had disappeared, so if it  _ had  _ been an abduction, the prognosis was not good. Dean was glad he went with the PC response and not said “she’s probably dead by now” like he was thinking.

“Well, if we're going to be working together, we should probably introduce ourselves,” mousey girl said. “I’m Velma. This is Daphne,” she pointed to the red headed girl, “this is Fred,” she pointed to the clean cut boy, “this is Shaggy,” she pointed to the stoner kid, “and this big ole boy is Scooby Doo.”

Scooby Doo was a Great Dane. In addition to his large size, he had this...somehow incredibly knowing look on his face, like more of a personality than most dogs have. Dean wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be charmed or unsettled, because more than anything, it made him uncomfortable.

“You can call us Dean and Cas,” Cas supplied. “Seems only fair.”

Velma nodded. “Seems fair. We’ll be going in just a few minutes. You should go to the bathroom, get ready to go. It’s not exactly a lovely day, so we don’t know how much time we'll actually have to be there. We’re burning daylight.”

“Maybe we should split up,” Fred suggested then. “Daphne and I can go do some research, look at property maps, see who owns what, and the rest of you guys can go out to the cave to look for clues.”

“I’d like to go with you to research,” Cas volunteered.

Dean looked at him for a few seconds, not saying anything but hoping his face said it all. He didn’t really want to split up, but if Cas insisted then he better make sure he has his phone within reach in case of any emergencies.

“That sounds good,” Fred smiles a winning smile, the kind you’d expect to see on a star quarterback and homecoming king. Maybe he was those things.

“I’ll drive us,” Cas volunteered, “and Dean, you can ride with Velma and Shaggy out to the mine.”

Dean tried to keep his eyes from going wide. Had Cas lost his freakin’ mind or was he just completely, absolutely charmed by this eccentric and mismatched group of teenagers?

“Make sure you have your cellphone in reach,” Dean warmed Cas in the most subtle way he could.

“I will,” Cas conceded.

Everyone paid for their food and made their ways out to the front. Cas and Dean watched awkwardly uncomfortable as the four teens all said goodbye to each other with pecks on the lips. Fred kissed Velma and then Shaggy and then Daphne kissed Shaggy and then Velma. Is that what kids do these days? Or is that specifically an Ohio thing? Maybe a Coolsville thing? Neither of them asked, and politely tried to avert their eyes so they weren’t directly staring at this overt display of affection between the four... _ friends _ .

Then, Dean tossed the Impala’s keys over to Cas and followed Shaggy and Velma into the funky painted van. Shaggy went to the driver’s side and Velma moved to open the sliding door on the side. Scooby got between the driver’s and passenger’s seats so he could be next to Shaggy. 

“You can have shotgun,” she said, hoisting herself up into the back.

The van’s rear was totally gutted and the inside was replaced with computer equipment. It looked high tech and spiffy as hell. Where’d they get the money for that sort of thing? Not to mention that having the back of your creeper van gutted was...a little bit suspicious, he thought. 

“How did you…” Dean started but stopped himself, thinking his question sounded rude.

“Afford all this?” Velma supplied, pushing her glasses up by the bridge with her forefinger. “Daphne’s parents are filthy rich. They bankroll a lot of Mystery Inc. stuff, so we have to be nice to them even though they are pretty neglectful of Daphne.”

Dean felt awkward and didn’t know what to say to that. He almost blurted out “that’s nice” but he realized that it would be saying it was nice that Daphne’s parents are neglectful of their child. Instead, he was able to finally get out that he thought it was nice that they at least helped them with their business

“Yeah,” was all Velma said before she started cracking away at the computers contained in the back.

“Do I turn left onto Canyon Trail and then right onto Valley Street?”

“You got it,” Velma called. “I’ll bring up the directions now for you.”

Dean wondered what Cas was experiencing with the other two group members. He pulled his phone out and shot him a text,  _ hows it going? _

“Texting your partner?” Shaggy asked.

Dean almost said “he’s not my partner,” but then realized that the teen was referring to Cas as a work partner and not a romantic partner. Could everyone decide to use two different words for that? It was too damn confusing, especially with how he felt about Cas.

_ Fred remarked that our car is a bit strange for the fbi _ , Cas texted back.

Dean tried to send another text back but as they started to get away from the town, Dean noticed he was losing service and the text took forever to send.  _ Shit _ . He hoped he didn’t lose it completely. He knew they were just kids, but he still had learned not to totally trust strangers, despite them seeming like they had pretty good heads on their shoulders. At a stop sign, Scooby stood up and turned his massive head to Dean.

Dean had always liked dogs. He gave Scooby a good couple of scratches behind the ear. The dog seemed quite content. Shaggy noticed the interaction as he started to turn the van.

“If you go in the glove box, there’s a box of Scooby snacks. He’ll love you forever if you give him one or two or five.”

Dean, eager to make the dog love him, reached over and opened the glovebox. The second it clicked open, Scooby stuck his face right in Dean’s lap, big eyes lolling up to make him look as cute as possible while he begged. Both Velma and Shaggy laughed as they watched the wanton display. Dean gave the dog three treats, just for the fun of it and wiped the dog slobber from his hand onto his monkey suit pants.

After about 20 more minutes in the hills, they finally stopped the van. It didn’t  _ seem  _ like they were anywhere different than the landscape had been for the last 10 or more minutes.

“Are we there?” Dean asked.

“Sort of,” Shaggy said, unhelpfully.

“We’ll still have to walk probably another 10 minutes or so to get to the actual mine,” Velma supplied.

“I don’t think I’m very...dressed for the occasion,” Dean admitted, looking down at his pointed shoes that went with the suit. What he wouldn’t give for some boots, jeans, and an army jacket.

“It’s a pretty flat hike,” Shaggy promised. The kid seemed like a stoner, was probably stoned right then, so if he thought it was an easy walk, it probably was.

“Okay, well, let’s get down there,” Dean said, gesturing for Velma and Shaggy to lead the way.

The two teens happily took the lead, Scooby bouncing back and forth between them and Dean, snuffling his hands and pockets to see if he had any more treats. Dean mostly just talked to the dog, pointedly trying to ignore the fact that Shaggy and Velma were holding hands and swinging them between each other as they walked.  _ What is  _ up  _ with these kids? _ Dean thought, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he checked his phone to see if Cas had replied to his last text. No signal. Fucking great. No way to contact anyone if this goes south. This was a stupid idea.

They were right—the hike was flat. Even in a full suit and jacket, Dean barely broke a sweat. But then getting down to the actual mine was a totally different story. It was  _ far  _ down there. Dean certainly wasn’t a fan of heights—see his fear of airplanes—but this definitely activated his fight or flight and oh boy did he want to fly. Before he could even try to protest, Shaggy and Velma were making their descent, more like scaling a cliff than walking down it. Scooby was leaping from rock outcropping to rock outcropping. The dog clearly was skilled in adventure, even if he was a giant hulking great dane. Dean kept closing his eyes, fingers doing death grips on the rocks.

“Come on!”

“You can do it!” he heard them calling.

When he peeled his eyes open, he was still close to the top and they were standing down at the bottom toward the entrance of the mine.

Dean took several deep breaths and tried to keep going. His arms and legs were shaking but he pushed himself, sweating through his shirt and jacket, his hair wet and dripping into his eyes.

Finally, he got down to the bottom. Velma and Shaggy were watching him in amusement.

“You got through Quantico like that?” Velma asked smartly.

Something about her tone told him she knew he wasn’t really FBI but was trusting him anyway. He could have been a serial killer tag teamer with Cas and splitting them up was the exact tactic to kill all of them. Instead of defending himself, he just muttered a vague excuse about having a fear of heights.

“Come on,” Velma said, “we’re looking for anything out of place. Video cameras, projectors, trap doors, etc.”

Dean nodded and started in toward the mouth of what was a cave that had been turned into a mine. The second they were out of the sun, the temperature plummeted into somewhere around the 50s. With Dean being soaked in sweat, he started shivering.

“Like, what’s the matter, man?” Shaggy asked, scared of the dark.

Dean turned to glare at the teen, clearly not finding it funny. “I do this for a living. Of course I’m not,” he growled.

“Ah ha! I knew it! You’re not real FBI,” Velma exclaimed, looking very self-satisfied.

Dean fixed her with a withering look. “What gave it away,” he asked, deadpan.

“Your car, your hair, your cheap suit, your flimsy excuse to be looking for a missing girl in Ohio, your obvious romantic relationship with your ‘partner,’” she did the air quotes with her hands.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Dean said, bothered about her read on the relationship between him and Cas. “So, what do you think I am? I could be some psycho murderer, for all you know!”

“My guess is you hunt the paranormal for a living,” she supplied.

Spot on. Dean was surprised.

“The other guess was a PI hired by the family, but your face just confirmed my initial theory. That’s mainly the reason we agreed to come out here with you. We have a vested interest in the paranormal as well, but it’s always a fake.”

“It’s still scary,” Shaggy supplied from behind them.

Dean couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw Scooby nod his big, giant head. He decided not to dwell on that too much. It was dark.

“It’s always someone protecting some treasure, running a counterfeiting operation, or just trying to buy some property. Have you ever seen a real ghost?” Velma continued.

They tried to keep it pretty close to the vest. If there was no reason to tell them about every single thing that goes bump in the night being real, then he shouldn’t tell them. But, there was something about them; he trusted them.

“Ghosts, vampires, rougarous, shapeshifters, all of it,” he confirmed.

Velma stopped in her tracks and spun on him, an intense look crossing her bespectacled face. “Are you messing with me?”

“I’m as serious as a heart attack. I wish I wasn’t. Make my life a hell of a lot easier.”

“So, you’re here on the off-chance this is a ghost?” Shaggy asked.

“Pretty much, yep.”

Just then, there was movement out of the corner of their eyes.

“What was that?” Shaggy said, clearly frightened.

“Let’s go!” Velma shouted, starting to run toward it.

“Wait!” Dean called. “It could be an animal!”

Velma paused in her tracks. Dean pulled out a pistol.

“Zoinks!” Shaggy said, eyes on the gun.

“And we need some light,” Dean added.

There were old light fixtures lining the tunnel, but it was clear they didn’t work anymore.

“That’s where we come prepared,” Velma admitted, pulling out a flashlight from her bag.

Dean nodded. “Good. Let’s proceed with caution.”

The three of them and the dog moved further into the tunnel, Dean and Velma in the lead, followed reluctantly by Scooby and Shaggy.

As they kept walking, something moved again at the far range of their flashlight. They could see that there was a fork in the tunnels, a left and right.

“Which way should we go?” Velma asked, sounding more like she was asking herself than anyone else.

Then, a noise echoed from the left so she immediately took off that way. They were walking for a while when Dean heard a scuffle behind him, Scooby barking. Suddenly, Scooby got quiet and Dean turned around. Scooby was laying on the ground, still breathing, and Shaggy was bleeding from his head laying next to Scooby. In just a few seconds, a person was on him, hitting him in the head with a blunt object. He wanted to fight, but his vision went black and he passed out.

When he came to, he didn’t know what time it was or even where he was because it was pitch black. All he knew was that he was sitting down, it was also still that cool 50 degrees, and the ground was damp. Still the cave, then, he figured.

“Velma? Shaggy?” he called out.

“I’m here!” Velma called, sounding pretty close.

“Shit,” Dean swore.

“Yeah,” Velma concurred.

“Is Shaggy here?” Dean asked, worried.

“I think he and Scooby are, but they’re not awake yet. I heard several sets of breathing.” She explained.

“You sure are clever,” Dean praised.

“Thanks,” he heard the smirk in her voice.

“Oh good, a few of you are awake now,” a new, male voice called.

Dean didn’t recognize it.

“Old Man Smithers?” Velma guessed.

“I really hate when people call me an old man. I’m only 60. I’ve got plenty of good years left in me.”

“Not after this little stunt, whatever you’re pulling,” Velma retorted. “I think you’re gonna have a few good years behind bars, instead.”

“Y’all won’t be getting out of here alive to tell the tale,” he countered viciously.

Dean wanted to ask why he’d bothered to tie them up and keep them alive if that was the case, but he figured he didn’t want to press his luck.

“What’s the rub here, pal?” Dean asked the stranger.

“There’s diamonds here. The mine dried up when the coal dried up, but there’s still money to be made here. But I don’t want anyone in on my territory! So, I’ve been dressing up and scaring people away.”

“What about Molly Oswald?”

“I don’t know anything about her. I may be a greedy old bastard, but I’m not a murderer.”

“Likely story!” Velma spat.

“Like, where are we?” Shaggy’s voice joined the mix.

“Shaggy, it’s okay. We’re still in the cave,” Velma answered.

“So, why’d you say we weren’t gonna get out of here alive to tell your story?” Dean asked, trying to call the man’s bluff.

“I’m just going to leave you here and you’ll die of hunger or hypothermia or something. That’s not on me,” Smithers admitted, sounding smug.

“You know we have people looking for us,” Velma snapped. “You won’t get away with it.”

Just then, something shifted in the air, it felt tight and electric, and the smell of sulphur stung Dean’s nostrils.  _ Oh fuck _ .

“On second thought,” the voice of Smithers had changed, “maybe I will kill you.”

Dean immediately started praying to Castiel, hoping the angel could hear his prayers.  _ There’s a demon, Cas. We’re being held captive. Please help! _

In seconds, there was the tell-tale  _ woosh _ of the angels wings. He couldn’t see, but he knew that sound anywhere.

“Cas!” he called out.

In the darkness, all he could see was Cas’ blue eyes glowing, anger clouding them. Then, as Cas burned the demon out of the host, the host’s body lit up with angelic light. It illuminated the whole cavern. In those few seconds, he was able to see Scooby, Shaggy, and Velma all tied up around him. Smithers slumped to the ground. A flashlight fell from his person and rolled across the cave. Cas picked up the flashlight and turned it on. Dean knew it was only for the benefit of the humans in the cave.

“Where are Fred and Daphne?” Velma croaked, sounding...cowed?

“They’re still outside,” Cas supplied as he moved to untie Dean, “we were on our way here when…” he stopped, since the next part would have given him away.

“What...are you?” Velma asked.

Cas looked to Dean. Dean gave him a small, affirmative nod.

“An angel,” Cas admitted.

Velma gasped. “Really?”

“Yes,” Cas said, coming over to untie her. “May I?”

She hesitated a second before nodding.

“Is that how you found us? Because of your...link with Dean?”

Cas seemed taken aback by the question for a split second.

“I...yes, that is how I found you.”

“That’s a pretty nifty trick,” Shaggy piped up, sounding completely unfazed.

Of course.

“Can you teleport us out of here?” Dean asked, seriously.

“Sure,” Cas agreed.

After they were all reunited, Scooby seemed pretty badly hurt, but he was alive. The gang needed to get him to a vet. They thanked Dean and Cas, but rushed off without too much fanfare.

“Keep us in mind if you ever come back through here,” Fred told them before the gang climbed into the Mystery Machine.

“Well,” Cas admitted, “that certainly was an interesting case.”

“It sure was,” Dean agreed, and before he could stop himself, he leaned up to place a quick peck on Cas’ lips.

At first, Cas was stunned into surprise. An angel of the lord, stunned by a kiss. But, then he kissed back, fervently. It truly was an interesting case.


End file.
